Professions

Before Midas realized, his eyes stared onto yet another paper—lying in front of him on top of his table, both the blue-eyed boy and Javelin looking to him, trying his best to decipher what was written on it. Their teacher wasn't the same elderly woman from the exams; instead, her hair was long, orange, and bound together, her tone softer as she announced to the class. Words only the kids clothed in green uniforms seemed to understand; all four of them turned to her with eager glances.

Beyond the muted rows of students, exchanging puzzled glances with each other—trying to find out what the next person to their left or right might do—the youth with the wild growth of hair on top of his head eventually got up and turned to the back rows—his sleepy eyes set to look up at Midas, as he was the first to notice the stare. Reluctant at first to even get up from his seat, he eventually sped up with every step he took—flinching lightly at the stares of the other students.

Once he passed Jevaila to come closer, Midas eventually turned to face him completely—remaining seated on his chair while letting go of the feather that was already prepared for them on their respective table. His brows seemed thin in comparison to his woolly hairstyle; their glances remained on each other for a short while before he eventually decided to speak.

"I heard you guys speak the language of the earth kingdom... perhaps you could tell me what they want us to do with this paper...? Oh, I am Jakal... by the way."

Midas's glance softened slightly; Javelin eventually turned to take a look at Jakal, noticing his slightly hunched back, before turning to Midas, who eyed down the inscription of the paper again. The first part of it demanded he write his name, followed up by four, what seemed to be descriptions of some sort—all of them having their respective logo printed onto the paper next to the tiny text.

The first of them showed off different tools; Midas was able to make out a hammer and a saw—most likely relating to some sort of craftsmanship, something that wouldn't fit into the profile of the university—as its use was to teach the regional language to foreigners. All of the tiny imprints had an empty circle beside them, possibly for them to cross.

The icon after that portrayed a knight's armor, behind the armored man—a sword and axe, both of them held up—possibly the icon that was used to describe the duty of being a knight belonging to this kingdom. Followed up by it was a book and quill—the last option portraying some sort of beast, as well as a chest of some sort, puzzling him the most out of all the four.

"You found something yet...?"

"Shh… let him think."

Shutting down Javelin's murmured question, Jakal pressed his raised index finger against his lips, making the hooded boy turn to him with a frustrated glance. The boy with the messy hair choked on his spit as he realized his sharp glare.

Not noticing them, Midas tried his best to fill in the gaps—this university is one of the few that accepts foreigners, even offering them a direct ride from the border into the grounds. After they gather all of them, they test their understanding of this language beforehand—also measuring their mana and fighting capabilities, something not needed for simply teaching a language. Combining that with the four possible ways of what seemed to be craftsmanship, guard duty, some sort of literary work, and whatever the last option portrayed, it was clear—they were already prepared to work for the kingdom once they graduated.

Knowing that, the time they would spend most likely would consist of them being together as a class for one half of the time, while spending the other half grouped together. Possibly being grouped with the people that sat in the other three rooms that are nearby. All of them were sorted at the moment to fill out different purposes for the kingdom that lends them a place to sleep and most likely eat as well. A trade, as the foreigners they take in, becomes capable of using their language, strengthening their economy by working for them.

Something that still confused Midas was the fact that none of these four options seemed to be directly related to mana. Midas was only able to guess if the last of these four options somehow included mana arts into them. Maybe the chest portrayed some sort of artifacts—things that are able to be infused with mana like his rune, possibly valuable. His fingers itched slightly to grasp his feather and cross the last of the boxes; he was uninterested in the first two options—not finding the idea of becoming a craftsman or guard intriguing.

"I'm sure they give us the choice to choose some sort of profession we will be able to learn while being taught this kingdom's language... We are able to decide between becoming a craftsman, guard, some sort of librarian perhaps... and... well, maybe a scientist of some sort...?"

"How many are you supposed to select...?"

"Two seems reasonable... if you're allowed to at least."

As the three of them conversed, Jevaila crossed the first of the four options while quietly observing them, rolling up her paper as her head raised to look at their teacher—watching the woman as she collected the filled-out papers from the students in the front. The blue-eyed boy turned back to look at his paper as he scratched behind his ear, eventually crossing all of the four options with a tired expression—looking back at them as they glanced onto his paper.

"I think I'll just cross the last option and hope it has something to do with mana..."

Jakal only nodded in silence, turning to the pink-haired girl as she got up from her seat to scan their papers—her eyes eventually halting on Midas' paper, slowly walking up towards him with her feather still in her hand. Bowing down slightly as Midas lifted the tip of his feather to fill out the third option for him as well. Making him and Jakal form an alarmed expression, the youth dryly exclaimed as he saw her bleak hand filling out his paper.

Looking up at her, with a gaping mouth and a raised brow, the pink-haired girl stretched out her other hand to make him look at her sheet as well. His wide eyes were forced to see their selections matched with each other. Javelin didn't care, dimly worried as his sister was unwilling to show him what she selected—eventually turning to his own paper to cross out the first and the last option on his paper.

"Really...? You're interested in science...?"

Jevaila noted, as she watched the softly stern brows of her brother. His father was quick to retreat into the ink holster again as he leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head as he stared out at the window.

"How can we know for sure this is science...? I just crossed off whatever might help us gain some extra bucks—we need the money to get the medicine."

"It's not like I can't get it myself... I'm not entirely useless, you know."

"So you crossed the first option as well...? Just tell me."

His serious glance softened at the sight of his sister nodding reluctantly, her sunken eyes on her folded paper that lay in front of her on the table. Making him sigh slightly into himself, knowing the expression on her face very well—already used to the scoldings she received from not only their parents but him as well.

"Are you sure you just want to keep it like that...?"

Jakals questioned with a somewhat shaky voice, as he bowed down to Midas—his stern gaze gravely different from the relaxed expression of the blue-eyed boy next to him, who was already turned to the window again as all of the four options on his sheet were filled out.

"What other option do I have... I don't think they will recognize my attempt at scribbling over her mark... either way, the option is filled out, no matter how hard I try to cover the cross up."

His defeated murmur didn't change the grin on the pink-haired girl's face—eagerly watching as the teacher went through every row of the room—slowly making her way to the back as she waited for the students to cross the paper, making some of the children in front of their group stand up from their seats and turn back to them as well—checking out what they did on their paper.

"Oh... I should head back to my seat... thank you, Midas...!"

Watching as Jakal squeezed himself through the girl that remained next to Midas, he began to relax—the possibility of mana training being its own thing, like the classes in which he was taught the region's language, eventually creeping into his head. Judging simply by his hair color and skin, Jakal might've originated from the northern desert as well, some of the others in the room in front of them resembling the same features as well.

As time passed by, Midas watched as the flat smile of their teacher gasped flatly at the blue-eyed boy's paper—her presence in front of him not making him turn away from the window, keeping his aloof expression as she shortly stared at him. Ultimately turning back to her pult once she was done collecting the sheets.